


and in the end, there was only the memory of your lips on mine

by kwritten



Category: Christian Bible (New Testament)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Black Lives Matter, LGBTQ Character of Color, M/M, Male Character of Color
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 09:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15191753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kwritten/pseuds/kwritten
Summary: for the prompt:  the bible, modern au, judas/jesustell me I'm a bad idea (I promise to give you a worse one)





	and in the end, there was only the memory of your lips on mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clytemnestras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clytemnestras/gifts).



The first time, they say, as many _messiahs_ were martyred as there were gods in their temples or stars in the sky. Everyone was looking for a Revolution. 

It's not so different, this time. 

 

 

_... reports of a shooting this evening in..._

"I hate this bar."

"You hate every bar."

_... spokesman says an internal review..._

"Leave, then. Fuckin' hell."

_... crowd has formed outside city hall, demanding..._

"Not any better out there."

_... breezy all weekend, Janet! That sun is ..._

"Not any better anywhere, brother."

"Aren't you supposed to be the positive one?"

 

 

He threatens death like a game, like putting his body on the line is something he was born to do.  
(He was.) (It's the only thing he knows.)

(It's the only thing any of them know. Being born is a death sentence.)

There's no poetry in dying. 

Unless you make it matter.

 

 

_.... rioting on Main Street after..._

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"Nah... but yours seems to like it."

_... verdict not what the community was hoping ..._

"Hey, Charlie! Turn the channel will you?"

"Man. Fuck off."

_... getting reports of the National Guard..._

"Back off, J. Let's get outa here."

_... mayor has called for city-wide curfew in light..._

"Listen to your boyfriend, kid."

_... price of baseball tickets ..._

 

 

When he's standing in front of a crowd, his fist held high in the air and every bruise on his face a tribute to a god that they've all long ago realized was no longer listening, it really does feel like the second fucking coming. 

(When he's coming in his mouth, it feels far more sacred, far more profane.)

He slings that same arm loosely around his shoulders, that fist turned to long fingers trailing across his collarbone and it doesn't feel like a Revolution, it feels like a prayer. 

Maybe that's how all Revolutions feel. 

 

 

_... further police intervention..._

"When are ya gonna tell 'em, J?"

"When hell fucking freezes over, brother."

_... yet another funeral in an already traumatized community..._

"Are ya ever gonna take this seriously?"

_... the President is scheduled to ..._

"... no."

"Don't kiss me like that, man."

_... creating further tension on the border..._

"Like what?"

"Like... like it's goodbye."

_... protests break out over the release of new information pertaining to..._

"It's always goodbye, brother. You know the score."

_... amazing turkey recipe in his new book..._

 

At first, he wondered where the Others were. 

If it was a goddamned biblical event or what _thefuck_ ever, then shouldn't they all be here, the twelve?

He found them in newspaper articles and podcasts and hidden away news stories. Peter in Egypt. Matthew in Ivory Coast. Thomas in Pennsylvania. 

It was all happening again, just like before.  
(Everyone wants a Revolution.)

He doesn't wonder how he got so lucky, standing by the big J himself. 

He knows it's not luck. 

(He's not that stupid.)

 

 

_... WE HAVE TO FIGHT FOR OUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS... _

"What the _fuck_ were you thinking, J?"

"You know the score, brother."

_... THIS IS ABOUT MORE THAN JUST ONE COMMUNITY... _

"Hey kid, that you on the news?"

"Get one on the house this time, Charlie?"

"Heh... fuck no."

_... BLACK BODIES ARE BEAUTIFUL AND PRECIOUS... _

"J!?"

"Judas, brother. Have a drink with me."

"Fuck you."

_... community gang leader speaks out..._

"Brother?"

"Your boyfriend leave, kid?"

"Hell, Charlie. The pretty ones always leave eventually."

"Ain't that the truth."

_... five lifehacks to get rid of those pesky..._

 

 

Less than a year later, he's watching an episode of _Law and Order_ "in the memory of" the only man he'd sacrifice the world for. All the details are wrong. All the important ones. The way he liked his waffles and how his eyes crinkled when he laughed. 

How he died alone in an alley like a fucking idiot, not standing in a crowd proud and strong, with that damn fist in the air like it'd help anything. That's just the picture they all like to see. 

"Didn't even get a Hollywood blockbuster this time around, J." He takes a swig of the Jack before pouring a slug out on the simple grave for a simple, ordinary man. "Maybe I should send Mel Gibson a letter."

 

Everyone's always looking for a Revolution. 

Idiots.

**Author's Note:**

> caveat: I am a ciswhitefem author and hope that this fic does not offend or seem to make light of any of the heavy issues tackled in this piece. If you find something insensitive or poorly handled, please let me know so that I can be better/etc.


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